


Haste Ye Back

by YaminoTenshi202



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Accidental Incest, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Because of Sex Work, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Body Worship, Branding, Breeding Kink, Codenames, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Egg Laying, Gentlemen's Club AU, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Incest, M/M, Minor Eyes Wide Shut Influence, Murder, Murder Kink, Necrophilia, No Body Dysphoria for the Trans Male Character (no none of that), Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Past Surgical History, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Rape, Rape Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Size Kink, Some Medical Jargon, Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violent Sex, consensual body modification
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-01-16 11:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: "I miss my boys so much, but we need this job."There were rules at his new workplace.1) It was just supposed to be temporary.2) He wasn't supposed to know anyone well.3) Relationships were professional here; work never made its way to the heart.Of course, with Donald's luck, he'd break every rule.(During the 10 year separation between Donald and Scrooge)





	1. Warning for the Children

**Author's Note:**

> I... I just need to vent out some feelings.

**For the love of God, please read the tags**.

This is a mature story. The only reason that I am posting a "WARNING! Minors don't read this! DX You're not mature! *rawr* THIS IS FOR ADULTS!!!!!!1 LEMONS!!! This means SEXX cx DON'T FLAME ME!!!!1!!11 DON'T LIKE DON'T READ (2010)" chapter is because I know that kids like to go where they shouldn't on the Internet. Please.

Our trans male character also does not truly experience a full body dysphoria, as that is not even how I experience it (being gender-fluid). He is neutral to his body itself but he identifies as male. At one point, he does experience an acceptance - and even joy! - in his physical body, but he does remain male in soul and mind. Be aware that the trans male character is the one who experiences pregnancy in this fic. I will attempt to summarize everything in the notes so that people can avoid bad experiences, should you wish to enjoy this work.

Thank you.


	2. Buck - $200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.

It hadn't been the first time that Donald had to try on a wig and dress. It wouldn't be the last time either, and he held that belief only because he knew that his first body held some assets that could be useful. The blonde hair - synthetic and reacting too easily to the static in the air - had been styled into a bun adorned with braids and curls that made the mass of blonde looked more like a crown. The dress itself was an alluring blue and so smooth, silk lining gliding over his feathers like the kiss of his nephews' hatchling hands on his face.

Donald looked into the mirror. His nephews' would not recognise the duck looking back at him now. Kohl around his eyes, color on his beak to accentuate his lips, and a brassiere that made his rather flat chest potentially more attractive to those that would care for that; all of this for his job, and Donald was only thankful that it took him a moment to see himself under all of that decoration.

“Dodger?” Donald turned to the woman who had helped him with his wig and make-up. After he had chosen the color of dress and had put on his scarf, she had helped him bring out the soft curves and slopes of his body that he had long since tried to accept so readily. She smiled at him warmly, coming and pressing a pink-powdered brush to his cheeks. Now his cheekbones would stand out more, she cooed, and the customers would be lining up to see him.

“I’m not so sure of that.” Donald held back a grimace as he heard his voice for the first time in years. It was soft, lyrical, and intelligible. It was nothing like the voice that he had taught himself to speak with. After his father had shown disappointment and confusion with him hating his voice, Donald swore that he would just speak buccally for the rest of his life, giving him a voice that anyone could recognize but wouldn’t associate with the person that he used to be.

She sighed, going on to compliment Donald’s hair, face, make-up, and even his voice. Donald sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t understand him so well. Everyone here loved how they looked and would often compliment each other in a way that Donald had never liked. It didn’t bother him, exactly, but it frustrated him when he was called soft and precious, not hard and strong and sharp.

Eventually, Donald heard her sigh again, exasperated. She stood up, giving Donald one last cheer before she kissed his temple. Donald smiled and thanked her, surprised by the hug that he received in return. Her lips became that of a viper as she began to speak. Donald felt his face flush at her words; of course, he had known what kind of job he was to perform, but hearing someone speak of it was surely an attempt of sabotage ! 

Her blood-red lips were telling Donald of how he was to speak kindly to these men that would pay for his attention. He would need to get them to buy expensive drinks and to keep their eyes on him so that they would not know how much they drank. Later, they may pay to touch him in places that Donald had only begun to discover in his adolescence as not being part of how he saw himself. In university even - his friends had gotten so adventurous - no matter how good it felt to have someone thrust inside of him, to have two people inside of him and caressing every sensitive part between his legs and on his body, it wasn’t something that Donald had imagined partaking in frequently. He would have to touch his customers as well, worshipping and desiring every part of them in a way that seemed genuine.

Donald didn’t have the heart to tell her that he did want that - it wasn’t the men that he would want, but he would want what they had been blessed to be born with ! He wanted to have sharp edges, muscles like those of a horse, and a different spot of sensitivity between his legs - but not having those things… It didn’t really bother him either. The thought of a procedure terrified him, after being in the hospital to see the bodies of his parents on the stretcher-

“Thank you, Miffy. I think I can handle it. I chose the nickname Dodger for a reason.” Donald gave her a smile when the woman pulled away. A curious expression took over the female duck’s position, her protective, instinctive hen posture settling in. Miffy quickly preened an out-of-place feather from Donald’s wig, a loose one that must have gotten away during his shower and dressing. Donald nodded, blowing at the feather between her fingers. They watched it float and settle on the vanity table, resting on a cheap nickel pendant that Donald had gotten from his nephews at a school fair.

“I’ll be okay… I’ll keep myself safe.”

Miffy nodded. Of course, Dodger would be careful - it could be a jungle with all of the drakes that were waiting for them to be displayed on the stage - chattel for the desires of drakes and hens that lived in Duckburg, St. Canard, and Cape Suzette.

A man, a bodyguard to the employees and threat to the customers, came in after receiving permission from the Madame de Costume that it was proper time for him to come in. They were given an order in which to present themselves, an ever-changing menu of those that could be purchased for public company, private company, or - to those that were experienced and comfortable with such a thing - company for pleasure. There were also those employees of different sections - the Arts and the Disciplines - whose descriptions of position and their tasks had made Donald flush and his stomach had twisted in a way that he had not felt in years, not since his friends in University had helped him discover the part of himself that enjoyed a small part of his natural-born body.

Dodger would be in the beginning of the presentation, though not first, as to present to the customers that she was a new creature that had graciously come to give herself to those that would care for her. Donald nodded - if she was close to the beginning, some customers would be distracted by those who would follow and show more and more skin. Dodger’s own costume was a sailor uniform with a skirt that extended past Donald’s knees. It was a humble, beautiful gift that his employer even had said that Donald could keep, should he wish, and Donald felt temptation to do so. With such a costume, some customers would not think to pick him right away, leaving Donald to pick out those that would be profitable to him and those that seemed kinder and more willing to let Donald become familiar with this world that he had flung himself into. As Donald got up to follow the leader of the show - he was fourth of thirty visages of soft beauty, a parade of wonder ! - he whispered something to himself and tried to remember the rules that had been ingrained into him before he had even started his training to work here. The only thing left from that time was the blue-pink scarf on his neck that let everyone know that Dodger was not all that she appeared to be.

One - Two - Three -

Donald swallowed down his practiced voice, his pride, and the fear that settled in his belly at the thought of being seen as something he wasn’t - that fear could not compare to the fear for his nephews that were currently being watched by his friend and former lover in a small apartment in Duckburg.

“We need this job.”

The woman behind Donald - a girl that was younger than Donald but held all the curves of her womanhood, in body and mind - tapped his shoulder. With her deeply cut blouse, exposing most - if not all - of her chest that made Donald bite his tongue to avoid arousal, she was perfect at taking attention off of him. She asked him something that made him smile.

“Yeah, I have three boys.” Donald’s hand was reached for, and he reached out to her in response. Dodger could do this, she said, Dodger could make sure that Donald’s children could have the life that he wanted to give them - no worries, no debt, and possibly… someone that could help him financially so that they finally had the right to want !

Soon, the curtains that would hide them from the audience were present in Donald's vision. A weight settled into his bones, one that made each step make the world uneasy. The girl behind him gripped his hand - this was a reality that he couldn't avoid. He had signed himself to flaunt himself to drakes and hens that would readily tear him - him, the person that he had had to make himself to be ! - apart. Donald squeezed the girl's hand in return - it was only then that Donald could feel her trembling.

“Does it ever get easier?” he whispered to her, surprised that his voice could become so quiet, shy of the power of a breeze. The girl shook her head, pressing her bare lips - devoid of color or gloss - to Donald's shoulder. The kiss stung through the uniform sleeve, a burning that made Donald… happy. 

Someone cared for him here.

The announcement of the lovely employees of this bordello, where Donald could feel the strangest chapter of his life begin, came over on loudspeakers. Here he was, and the customers were waiting to see him and others. They would be picked by those with money and free time; although Donald could accept it, he was apprehensive about rejecting any offers that would come to him.

He’d just have to be careful.

The first woman wore a short dress, almost a mockery of a wedding dress were it not for the styled skirt that became a bustle that dragged on the floor behind her. The second wore a dress that was much like something that Donald had seen on his mother once, prim and proper. The woman before Donald wore a dress and a bonnet to match.

He was pushed gently forward, the hand holding his letting go. Donald could feel his blood freeze as he walked towards the center of the stage. He could hear the announcer talking about Dodger - “A lady-companion who has seen the world and would provide stories of the open sea that will beguile you as much as her beauty! The lovely Dodger!” - and Donald followed. He found himself in the centre of the stage, giving a slight bow that elicited whistles from the audience before him. He gave them a wave, posing for a few moments, and let himself be walked off of the centre stage where the three women that were before him came to greet him.

“Sweet Dodger,” they cooed to him, and their words were kind and sweet. Donald felt safe under their gaze, and he knew that they would keep watch over him tonight. At least, that was what he was hoping for.

Donald waited patiently as he heard each name follow his. They were nicknames of some sort or another. Some were lovely names - Dixie, Clementine, and Scarlett - and others were definitely more playful or teasing in nature like his own - Aphrodite, Captain, and Satine. 

He adjusted his scarf, hoping that the announcements would end soon. The sooner he mingled with the customers, capturing their attention and amusing them, the sooner Donald could go home to his ducklings. Captain, a lovely woman with stern red lips and curves that Donald would have preferred - how soft his own made him ! - walked in front of Donald before looking back.

Captain's eyes were almost black, her Asiatic features entrancing. She stared at Donald with all of the power of a seasoned fighter - this was their field of battle, an ocean of victims willing to pay for their attention, to be caught in their net. Donald nodded and Captain gave him a small smile. She tipped her cap in Donald’s direction and adjusted her pink and blue scarf, her stern red lips still in that smile.

Donald gave a small salute in return, something that made the Captain give a huff of laughter in response. Donald stepped back into line, hiding with the others. It wasn’t long until the thirty individuals were announced, paraded about as chattel.

“Enjoy the evening, everyone,” Donald heard the announcer say, “and abide by our rules.”

Donald could even remember the rules that he had been taught as well when he had come to the initial interview. He knew that the relationships could become personal, but it was advisable to avoid such a thing. Those discussions were under Donald’s control and that of the customer; ultimately, the bordello could assist in legal fees should anything occur. Donald could dictate every aspect of every interaction, but this was all supposed to be temporary anyway. 

The final bit of advice was to not take any of this home. The bordello paid for medical tests, health examinations, and even familial healthcare. It was under this set of conditions that Donald should not take any of this information home ; why would he? He didn’t want his nephews to know about what he’d be doing while he worked here.

Donald perked up at the announcer telling them that the customers were ready. Donald took a deep breath and followed everyone as they passed through a door and then a large curtain.

The air had the scent of incense, something like flowers, that made Donald feel more at ease as he began to peruse around the large chamber. He saw the spiraling stairs but he chose not to go up them - he saw the Captain stride up there, power in every step, and several customers were looking at her with such adoration that Donald knew that they had been caught in her net and would jump in if given the chance.

Donald looked around the room. All of the customers were eyeing the escorts - and some customers even eyed each other - and moving to seat their chosen one down close by them. Soon, Dodger would be the only one without a customer, left to be picked up by those who had been ignored by the other escorts. Donald could hear his title being called, greeted by hungry eyes and hands.

It filled him with a discomfort that he hadn’t felt in years, the feeling of being trapped in a room. It… It had been since his childhood that he felt such a thing, this unsettling horror in his stomach - No, it had been when he was a sailor in the Navy, when he had been stuck under artillery fire, captured on an enemy ship and hardly any room to move. The idea of death had swallowed him whole then. The room was going to devour him as well, his feet to be swallowed by the carpet that was so silent under his shoes.

“Come this way, young Dodger.”

Donald looked to his right. He had wandered by the bar, its high chairs only half-full to capacity. There, a drake in a mask sat, waving him over. He had a drink in his hand, something that looked like a dark cola or brandy. He sat alone, his black mask over his eyes hiding anymore discernible features from Donald’s eyes.

Donald walked over, no longer feeling like falling into the floor. The drake smiled kindly at him, sipping at his drink as Donald sat down.

“Would you like a drink on your first evening here, Dodger?” The man spoke with an accent that Donald smiled at - either the drake was from out West or he was pretending to be something of a cowboy.

“I should be asking you if you would like something to drink, sir,” Donald said, his voice as velvet-smooth as he could make it. His voice-box, not used in years but taken care of as to avoid any serious conditions, was vibrating in his throat as he had not felt in years; it was a welcome sensation. As he settled into his seat next to the stranger, Donald fixed his skirt and uniform jacket.

“You look quite lovely, Dodger.” The drake set down his drink and reached out with one of his hands. “Call me Buck.”

“Thank you, Buck.” Donald set his hand in Buck’s own, expecting something like a handshake. He was surprised at Buck twisting his hand slightly and raising Donald’s hand to his beak, pressing a kiss to it.

“The pleasure is all mine, lovely.” Buck let go of Donald’s hand completely, tracing his fingers over his own drink before calling over the bartender. The bartender, keeping an eye on Buck, asked Donald for an order.

“Just a cola, please,” Donald requested, tickled as Buck offered to pay for whatever Donald would order. “I do get free drinks here, you know.”

“Yes, but what kind of man would I be to not do something like that for a lovely creature like you?”

Donald got his soft drink and sighed to himself. It was a soft flattery that Buck gave him, but what else would be there? Donald could tell that there was something familiar about this drake, but it didn’t unnerve him - it made him feel much safer in this glorified shark tank.

“This is your first night then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, thank you for drinking with me.” Buck finished off whatever was in his glass and asked for another drink - cola, this time - before turning back to Donald. Donald nodded, smiling as he drank his own drink.

“Of course. No reason to turn down free drinks,” he said coyly. Buck chuckled and raised his hand in a jesting manner before sighing.

“Not just that, dear - it’s nice to just talk sometimes, and you’re getting paid. I’m sure anyone can take advantage of it.”

Donald nodded, humming. The sweetness of the soft drink tempered his nervousness. As they began to talk, he looked to Buck, who was dressed rather conservatively for such a scene; he wore something like a suit, stylized to his body. If Donald were out and about, looking for fun instead of work, perhaps he could see himself going after this man, this man that began to ask him about where he’d been in the world. Donald let himself go, only talking about his adventures that he’d seen and experienced in the Navy and in University.

“So your friend lassoed the snake ?!”

“Yes ! We rode through the river, and we did make it to safety by riding on the monster’s back,” Donald regaled, describing the feeling of almost drowning while the feeling of adrenaline pounded through his veins. He left out so many details, like Panchito and José’s names, and had made up others. It was fun to make up these stories, as though that there had been something truly meaningful about those memories. It wasn’t that there wasn’t anything special - Panchito and José were still his best friends, and they’d talk to each other through occasional phone calls - but Donald couldn’t do any of those fantastic things any-more, not when he had three baby boys to take care of.

“Why don’t you go on those adventures any-more, darlin’?” Buck asked, waving down the bartender for some water. Donald stared at the now empty glass in his hand. This had to be the fourth soft drink that he had gulped down.

“... I have other obligations.”

“Do you have a family?” Donald opened his beak, only for Buck to raise a hand, “I know you owe me no explanation, especially when it concerns something so private to you, sweet Dodger, but, should you have a family and have found that this is the only thing, this practice, to be able to help you and your family… I think that I will pay handsomely for your time tonight.”

Donald gaped at that. He knew that it was unattractive to many, but he couldn’t help it. Buck’s eyes looked right at his own when he spoke. There was something familiar there, something sweet, and Donald found himself leaning forward. Buck responded in kind, placing a hand on Donald’s face. From there…

Where would they go?

“D-Did you want…”

“This is fine.”

It was assurance, a kindness that not everyone could be afforded.

“We can do more than talk,” Donald cooed. “I want you to get your money’s worth, Buck.” Donald placed a hand on Buck’s own, pressing that warm palm into his cheek. The room seemed to fade, less saturated in hue than how Buck was. The older drake rubbed his thumb right under Donald’s cheek bone, a gentle sensation that made Donald lean forward further.

It had been long since he had received such kind, attentive action, and it was no surprise that Buck came closer and pressed a kiss to Donald’s forehead. Donald himself lifted his head up enough that another kiss landed on his snoot, not far from a place that would make such a kiss one of more sensual inclination. In a moment of resolve, Donald lifted his head and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Buck’s beak.

Buck turned, meeting Donald's eyes. There was a story to tell, a story carved in those eyes that Donald wanted to know. This was something he hadn't felt before…

"Buck, could you… May I spend more time with you?"

This was Donald's choice - here, he could decide everything, his cursed luck be damned.

"Whatever you wish, beautiful Dodger. Your company is worth any price."

Donald and Buck continued their talk, only now with their bodies leaning towards each other. Donald found himself reaching for Buck, his body flirting and flitting about the drake as though he couldn’t get enough of this cowboy that was telling him stories of herding cattle, journeying through arid deserts just to make sure that all of the steers made it to their destinations. Buck continued to offer drinks and later food-stuffs for the both of them. Donald couldn’t remember the last time that he enjoyed mozzarella sticks or chips and dips.

When they had gotten onto the subject of sailing, Donald and Buck had decided to move to another place to talk. After having so much sugar, Donald ached to move.

“May I?” Donald looked to Buck, who held out his hand to aid Donald in hopping off of the barstool. Donald almost laughed at the gesture, the archaic nature of it, but it seemed sincere, just as everything else about Buck was. Their hands touched. Buck gripped Donald’s hand tightly, and Donald found himself returning that grip.

“Your grip is strong. You have a sailor’s hands,” Buck said, beaming. Donald took it with a grain of salt, unsure if the comment was a compliment or not. Buck pressed a kiss to Donald’s hand, leading him to a loveseat where they sat together.

Donald felt a small skip in his heartbeat when Buck kept a hold of his hand, gently pulling the younger drake to follow as they sat next to each other, closer than before. The eye of the security guard by the loveseat gave Donald a nod, but Donald couldn’t care for his attention any-more than he would care for an out-of-place plate on a table. Buck was calling for all of his attention - something there in the older drake, especially as Buck continued to pull him, Donald allowing it and even feeling eager for it, made Donald relax. He felt so safe, especially as Buck began to press his beak to Donald’s forehead.

“You are so beautiful, Dodger. A beautiful sailor…”

Donald smiled.

“And you’re a strong cowboy, Buck… I think we’re both more than that, though.” Donald found himself wanting to tease the older drake, especially as he found that he could smell a wonderful familiar scent from the other drake. They continued to talk about their own adventures. It made him relax, and soon, Donald found himself pressing another kiss to Buck’s cheek. Buck looked to the security guard, who merely nodded. It was within the rules, and such affection was allowed in the main room.

Buck raised up a hand, placed it on Donald’s waist. Donald nodded, feeling his heart sink somewhat but he remained steadfast.

“You know the prices, right?”

“Yes, I do.” Buck rubbed his thumb against the bodice material of Donald’s outfit before turning to the security guard. The monitor came over, getting a card from Buck that every customer would put money on when they were looking for company. Donald watched as the tablet that the monitor carried came to the so-called menu of their establishment. Buck selected his desires before passing it to Donald for approval.

… Really?

“That’s all you want, sweetie?” Donald asked, not really knowing deep down if he was trying to entice the other or not for more… intimate physical affection.

“Like I said, pretty - it’s nice just to talk sometimes. If you find it nice to kiss me, I’ll take that too, but I won’t pressure for more from ya. I’m just fixin’ for a talk, is all.” Buck stared back at Donald, bright eyes determined and bearing the older drake’s soul in a way that Donald couldn’t help but find…

“You’re lonely, then.”

Buck didn’t try to deny Donald at all, only watching with a stern gaze as Donald approved the selections with his own signature. The monitor signed it as well, moving away to stand watch over the customer and escort that went back to quietly tell stories to each other, Buck caressing Donald’s hips with his thumbs.

The position itself was something of a mockery of intimacy but something that Donald could appreciate. Buck could press his face to Donald’s breast if he wanted to. With Donald kneeling on the cushions, he’d have a harder time maneuvering if he wanted to get comfortable; Buck could easily get control. However, Donald had his hands on Buck’s shoulders in such a way that the older drake wouldn’t be able to get hold of Donald easily, and the monitor had a clear path to them both.

Donald had power here, and that made him happy, if somewhat troubled.

Buck eventually began to seem skittish, eyes not always on Donald’s. Bright blue eyes were soon moving downwards, often enough that Donald grabbed Buck’s jaw with nimble fingers.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” Donald cooed.

“Dodger… Forgive me, but I might-”

“What? You wanna kiss me?”

Buck’s feathers got a tinge from pink across his snoot. Donald almost laughed - Buck must have been blushing so hard just to make that happen ! Perhaps he’d take pity on him.

With that thought, Donald leaned in, beak to beak, and Buck was now tense with something that Donald had only felt a few times in his life. He thought fondly of days in university and on adventures with his sister Della from years ago. 

Panchito would always tense for just a moment, eager and begging to have Donald on his lap, ready to pound into him. José would always get Donald begging, somehow, for either cock or tongue to enter him, but José would always be tense for the first several thrusts into Donald’s eager body. Even Storkules would be tense - though this was a man - deity - that Donald could always recall being a sweet, gentle creature that didn’t leave up to all the lies that were spread about him; after kind words, Storkules would be worshiping Donald with beautiful words, kisses, and the tension would fade as love-making overrode their senses.

Buck was hardly relaxing underneath him, but it wasn’t bad. No, Buck was pressing his thumbs harder into Donald’s hips, pressing their mouths together harder. The tension made the air thicker, scented with heat. Donald opened his mouth enough to press his tongue to Buck’s beak, and soon, he was drawing out open-mouthed moans from Buck. It was a wet, hungry kiss, ravenous enough that Buck had to pull away, panting.

Donald pressed his hand to Buck’s forehead, careful to not remove Buck’s mask. Buck closed his eyes, catching his breath.

“God… Where did you come from?” Donald smiled at Buck’s question, kissing him again but much more calmly. Buck’s hands landed on his hips, gripping and holding Donald as a support. He could have been shaking but Donald couldn’t even tell.

“Can’t answer that.”

“This… This is your first night. Right, Dodger?”

Donald smiled. “That would be right, but you’re not the first pretty face that I have all red just for me.”

“I see… How did they let you escape? Especially with that mouth…” Buck readjusted himself in his seat, moving to lay down on the cushions.

Donald shrugged. Honestly, he never stayed with anyone because he always wanted to be at home. His sister was always reckless, but she was the best shoulder in the world to lean on. His cousin Gladstone could be a bit of a jerk, but he had always been kind to Donald on bad days that would just not give him a bit of a reprieve. Fethry, no matter how annoying, was eccentric and exciting when he wasn't dragging Donald along on crazy adventures just to find some small prize at the end; no matter how pretty a tale Fethry could spin, Donald would never find atypical algae or abnormal rock formations interesting. Grandma Duck and cousin Gus were pretty laid-back when they weren't busy with the farm.

Donald pushed his last family member out of his head. That man didn't deserve the attention.

A cough from the security guard alerted Donald to his presence. Buck hadn't paid for long, and he only wanted this attention that Donald was willing to give him. He turned his gaze back to Buck, who was eyeing his neck.

"See something interesting, doll?"

"No, seeing your scarf."

Donald had almost forgotten about it. He turned to sit beside Buck, pulling away from him completely and ignoring the strange desire to hold onto the other drake. "... Does it bother you?"

"No," Buck said right away, smiling, "there's not a lot of women in my line of work, so it'd be awful of me to be bothered by something as silly as how someone sees themselves. Man or woman, you're still the lovely Dodger that almost had me moaning underneath you with a damned kiss."

Donald chuckled and Buck followed in kind. Buck stood and reached out a hand that Donald grabbed in a firm handshake.

"Perhaps I'll come to visit you again, lovely."

"I'd appreciate the warm company," Donald said, sincere.

* * *

 

The rest of the night was uneventful, but Donald only had thoughts for Buck. When he finally left to pick up his boys, the wig, make-up, and costume gone, the warmth of Buck's hands were still on his body. As they all went to sleep that night, the moon already high in the sky and threatening to make its approach towards the dawn, Donald found himself welcoming sleep more easily than he had in months, warmth on his body and his boys warming his heart.


	3. Buck - $900 + $120 + $100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And everything goes down hill...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please see my tumblr for more info about this, my other stories, and my work: devan-shires.tumblr.com

Huey was already done with his breakfast snack when Uncle Donald came with Dewey in his arms. Louie followed close behind, dragging his naptime blanket in its bag. Kindergarten was Huey's favourite place, mainly because they learnt so many things there and his brothers were there. The only bad thing was that Uncle Donald wasn't there.

“Huey, can you grab Louie’s cereal bowl for me?” Huey hurried to obey his uncle. Uncle Donald sat Dewey down, cradling his face and feeling his forehead. Dewey didn’t look sick, just tired, but Uncle Donald was always worrying about them. Huey placed the bowl at Louie’s spot, who smiled at the oldest brother. Huey smiled back, reading the book for a new club that Uncle Donald had signed him up for. Louie sat down next to Huey, moving his things over and huddling against his brother’s side. It was still early, but it was the only time that Uncle Donald could get them to the before-school program. With that program, and the after-school program, the triplets could be with daycare people and then go right to their classrooms, and the opposite for the afternoon. Uncle Donald said that it was much safer than just finding a babysitter.

“Well, Dewey,” Uncle Donald said, pressing his beak to Dewey’s forehead. “Just take a nap when I drop you three off, okay? Huey, can you help the teachers remember that I’m going to pick you three up after school today?”

Huey dropped his new Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, looking up at their uncle.

“You’re picking us up, Unca Donald?!”

Uncle Donald smiled and hugged the triplets close. “I’m going to work today, delivering supplies, and I’ll be off in time to pick you up. We can go to the library and play there for a while after you do your homework.”

Louie smiled and Dewey hugged their uncle sleepily. Huey nodded, hugging their uncle back in the biggest hug that he could.

When they got to school, Donald got his nephews into their program, helping Dewey onto a cot so he could finish sleeping. Louie and Huey went over to the video games that were already set up in a corner of the room. Donald went to the teachers and explained that he’d pick up the boys today.

“I’m glad, Mr. Duck. The boys sometimes get lonely without you,” is what Donald heard, but he was too focused on Dewey’s back, rubbing small circles until the duckling finally fell asleep. He thanked the teachers, leaving Dewey to sleep. Louie and Huey waved good-bye to their uncle and went back to their game.

In the afternoon, Donald had taken them to the movies, watching something from a relatively unknown film studio, simply because the domineering film studio at the time was something that Donald couldn't stand. They went home, had dinner, and soon Donald was tucking them into bed, relieved that the debt on his head was just a bit lighter.

A few days later, Dodger was working again. This time, the sun was already down by the time that Donald got there. The blond wig was already in place in just a few moments, making Donald the same silver-blonde that he was before. The dress that he wore was modest, the same curves of his body highlighted by only a few careful folds of the dress fabric. He brushed on eyeshadow just like in the training classes he had before, decorated his lips with lip gloss. He pressed the bra cups against himself again, shivering as the fabric of the bra gave him goosebumps. 

For the sixth time, Donald walked out into a separate area than where he had been announced as Dodger. Captain was overseeing everyone there presently, even calling Dodger over to talk and spend some time giving some customers attention. Donald found himself serving drinks, flirting with customers, and he found himself given a hundred dollars, just for a kiss on the cheek that was given to him kindly.

Donald, however, found himself looking around the room. He kept an eye out for a familiar shape. Buck had been a constant on his mind since their meeting. It had been so long - perhaps since University! - that Donald had found someone that attentive, that patient, and he couldn’t help but be enamored.

A masked woman called for Donald’s attention. As Donald smiled, he poured her another flute of wine. It was something expensive, something Italian. As she invited Dodger to sit with her, nonchalantly selecting some options from a tablet that she had called for from the security guard, Donald took care to have her finish her payment before settling against her side.

The woman invited Dodger to drink, that “A lovely specimen like you should relax just a bit, darling,” but Dodger declined, merely obeying what the woman had agreed to on her list, and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek. Her customer’s long ears perked up at their bases, her wet nose crinkling in pleasure. A strong arm came around Donald’s waist, shifting Dodger’s skirt but not raising it - that’s not what anyone had paid for yet.

No, as Dodger came to taste a beautiful mouth that tasted of wine and cordial cherries, tongue lost and almost numb at the taste, Donald thought of Buck. He thought of strong, lithe hands on his body, unfamiliar friction in places that he explored on occasion. His woman-customer pulled away, talking of something ecological, pertaining to her work. Dodger nodded dutifully, as Donald found some of the information useful for his house-boat. He hadn’t known of the new level of chemicals in the water. Hopefully, it wouldn’t get to the marina.

“Can you- Oh.”

“Good to see you again, sweet Dodger,” came Buck’s voice. The woman-customer greeted him. Buck was invited to sit down. Donald watched as his woman-customer drank down her wine, the natural knot in her throat bouncing up and down as she swallowed. Out of the corner of his eye, Donald saw a security guard come over, tablet at the ready.

Donald turned his mind back to his customer, who invited Donald to mark her. Dodger obeyed, as that had been asked of her. However, Donald could only find it rude that here, he had been thinking of Buck, and this sweet creature in his arms only sought out Donald’s paid-for attentions.

Soon, Donald felt only slightly buzzed, having just one flute of champagne as what was allowed for the night. After a few more touches and more drinks, Dodger was free to stalk for another wallet.

That was when Buck came forward. Donald looked to the tablet, looking over everything and smiled.

“I hope you don’t mind, lovely, but I might have paid to watch.”

Donald raised an eyebrow, carefully lowering his painted eyelids to avoid the lights. Signing his night away - the whole night ! - Donald held up the tablet for the guard to take.

“I don’t mind, sir, but ‘lovely’? Really?”

“Well, look at you.” Buck reached out, waiting. One nod from the guard let Donald know that he had been given the option of being bought. Donald leant forward, surprised by how relaxed he felt once his face was cradled in Buck’s hands- Oh, shit!

Fingers gently caressed his cheeks and upper neck. Whatever Buck was doing was lovely. Donald realised that he had been wrong. Buck’s hands were calloused, strong and lithe. These were the hands that Donald had dreamt of, that were strong enough to tear out the foundation of the earth, and he cradled Donald’s face like a bubble, afraid to even try pressing. Donald let himself be pulled gently, and their lips came together again.

Buck hadn’t drunk anything in a while, the late taste of beer in his mouth almost gone. Donald, however, found himself shyly - eagerly - looking for the taste. Buck returned the gesture, moving in tandem with Donald. Their tongues were not shy but humble, seeking out the deepest parts of each other in the least obscene way that was possible.

When they parted, Donald felt breathless in a way that he hadn’t experienced in years. Buck nodded to the Captain, who looked over to Donald. Donald nodded, bidding Dodger “a fair voyage”. 

Donald followed Buck to the place where they had gone last time, their couch secluded and guarded over by watchful eyes. Donald saw the guard change his tablet to its active setting, where he could see Buck’s purchase and Donald’s authorization.

“Where have you been, lovely?” Buck held out a hand. Donald held that hand firmly, the tension in his chest fluttering with excitement. Buck pulled, and Donald allowed himself to be pulled into Buck’s lap. He sat sideways in Buck’s lap, their ribs settling together. Donald could feel Buck’s heartbeat against his chest.

“I’ve been living. What about you, Buck?” Donald found himself captured by words that sounded so sultry in their delivery; had Donald found himself fully sober, he’d find that some of these things had been reported - well, alluded to - in the news.

“But I’ve missed you, my dear.” Buck nuzzled his beak against Donald’s neck feathers. Donald obeyed the gentle request, tilting his head so that Buck could press kisses to places that Donald had desperately been wishing for. Buck made claim to everything in his reach, all within what Dodger had allowed.

“Hn… Just me?”

“Just you,” was whispered against his skin. Donald jolted slightly at those words. Before Buck could pull away in worry, because that was the kind of man that Donald had understood that Buck was, Donald reached with an eager hand to cradle the back of Buck’s head. Buck stilled, sighing and pressed one kiss there.

“Just me,” Donald agreed, letting his voice wash over Buck. Buck leaned into Donald's grip, smiling.

Donald felt himself break a rule there, but he didn’t really care as Buck began to mouth at Donald’s neck. Fingerprint bruises would be found later on his sides, but Donald couldn’t help the small moans that he was making, the pain pleasurable. Buck took this in stride, bringing a hand to Donald’s chest. There was a question there, and Donald felt safe there.

Donald nodded. Buck grasped his breast softly. Donald had always had enough of a chest to remind him that he could nurse one day, but he was flat enough compared to Della that he could always get away with not wearing a bra. Now, however, he almost felt ashamed that he was wearing a push-up bra, like it would really add to his body.

“Did you stuff your bra?” Buck asked, teasing. Donald huffed.

“No, but I wanted to look pretty for you, so I got one with better padding.”

“My beautiful Dodger, you’re already so lovely…” Buck moved to capture Donald’s lips again. The two ducks were so wrapped up in one another that they didn’t notice the time pass. The noise from the main room was starting to lessen, customers and hosts making their way to rooms of different interests and intent. With a look to the doorway, the security guard came over, telling them that restrictions on the room had lifted.

Donald nodded, Buck following along as they were told of the new restrictions by their guardian. They could turn people away from the room, and anything that could be done without removing clothing could be done. They were on the first floor, and anyone that would come in should be protected from, for Dodger and Buck's privacy. However, there was no additional equipment that was already in the room. If they wanted to stay, they’d be limited to what they had; they could always find somewhere else to play, though.

Donald looked to Buck, who nodded and pressed his consent into the tablet. He always went back to his purchases and added more, as he had done slowly during their relationship with ea. Buck looked to Donald, silently asking again. Donald looked at the list, scrolling through it.

To say that Donald didn’t find a heat in his belly at the list that had him signing agreement quickly, he’d be a liar.

The guardian went to his spot again, and Buck captured Donald’s mouth, licking his way inside. The hand on Donald's chest squeezed gently, pressing down. The sensation made Donald shiver not unpleasantly. Donald grabbed that hand, heart skipping at holding Buck's hand, and pressed down. Buck fondled Donald's breast though his clothing, shuddering as Donald decided to take another chance and press his ass down on Buck's lap. As luck would have it, Buck was hard, cock already eager for stimulation just at the simple act of touching Donald.

"Such a handsome thing," Buck whispered. He guided Donald so that they faced one another, kissing Donald's forehead and then pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. Donald laughed as kisses touched his clavicles, just above the neckline of his dress.

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else, sweetheart?" Buck was huffing at the border of the dress, where fabric was in the way of him tasting Donald's skin underneath the smooth fabric.

"No, I like the challenge." Buck smirked and pressed a kiss to Donald's dress, just where the breastbone would be. Donald smiled and watched as Buck seemed to take his time thinking of a game plan, hands exploring Donald's body and costume.

When a hand came upon his ass, Donald rolled his hips slightly. Buck kept his composure, squeezing Donald's ass. It became a game, one that had both ducks shivering and eager as they moved their bodies together

"Dodger, I want to taste you." Donald hummed, shuddering as fingers made their way under his panties and caressed his wet entrance there. They were playful, spreading and exploring his folds.

"You don't want me to taste you, Buck?"

"Honestly, we'll have to see if I last that long." Donald felt his face flush at that. Buck helped Donald lie down, putting a pillow under his hips. Buck knelt on the soft carpet as Donald sighed, spread his legs. One leg came over the edge of the couch cushions, toes almost reaching the floor. Buck pressed kisses to Donald's calves, then thighs. He played with the garters that held up the thigh-high stockings that Donald had chosen.

"You're so cute, Dodger."

"I aim to please," Donald moaned. Buck's hands made their way to his panties, one hand moving the fabric away as fingers made themselves ready. A finger came close and caressed Donald's entrance. It was curious but by no means shy. Donald found himself moaning wantonly as fingers played with his sex, one finally pushing in after he asked for it.

He felt the finger go in deep, his channel welcoming. Donald had made it harder in the past to be with other men. He remembered when Storkules had offered him the prospect of a family, having children; they eventually agreed that they would not be suited to be with each other as spouses. Whenever they had sex, Donald merely denied the possibility of having an egg. The facility also brought medical-grade contraceptive for everyone that could need it.

However, now, Donald found himself struggling to deny himself the pleasure - or the risk - of a pregnancy. He just wanted Buck to reach his deepest spot. Donald shifted himself slightly, and Buck's fingers moved to a different spot, one that ran so close to where Donald's pleasure center was that he almost reached an orgasm already. Donald cried out, gripping at the pillow underneath him.

"Oh, you know your body well, sweetie." Buck praised Donald gently, thrusting his fingers in and out of the new space with a practiced ease and soft kisses to Donald's lower belly and hips. "Don't worry. If you don't want something, I don't dare to do it. Just let me feel how good you are."

Donald groaned, bucking his hips against Buck's strong hands. One of those kisses made its way to the top of Donald's hole, wet and slurping as Buck tasted Donald for the first time.

Donald cried out, legs quivering as a tongue licked at him, fingers thrusting in and out of his sex in a way that Donald found himself finding harder to live without. He reached down with a hand and buried his fingers in Buck's head-feathers, trying to bring him closer.

"So good…" Buck nodded and pulled away. Donald looked up and watched as Buck licked his mouth clean, smirking down at Donald. Donald huffed.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Buck pressed his cheek to Donald's thigh. His breath graced Donald's sex, sending little shivers through his body. "Shall I finish you with my mouth? Or will my fingers be enough?"

Donald chuckled. "Well, you are talkative tonight. Your mouth could be put to good use. It's not a challenge, is it?"

"Let me take you up on that." Buck dove in, his tongue pressing inside of Donald and making Donald throw his head back in pleasure. He was dragged to the edge of completion, resting on the precipice. Buck wriggled his tongue around, mapping and almost memorising every spot of Donald's cloaca with fervor. He applied gentle suction with his mouth, beak firmly around all of Donald's sex.

Donald found himself cursing aloud, his sailor's mouth getting the better of him. In a better light, however, that only spurred Buck on further. The more Donald lost himself, the more Buck wanted to see him fall apart completely. Buck began to thrust his tongue in and out of Donald, going along with the eventual rolling of Donald's hips as they found each other's rhythm. 

"Buck, Buck… I can't-" Donald let out a sharp keen as Buck pressed his tongue into the small spot where fingers had just pressed moments - or eternity ? - ago. Buck moaned, sucking at the fluid that was released suddenly, a steady flow coming. Donald, on the other hand, was drowning; he was going to be lost under the waves of Buck's attention. His sex was spilling around the seal that Buck had made there, getting the couch dirty, surely. Donald felt breathless, trying to tell Buck about his closeness, that teetering on the edge.

Buck pulled away, Donald letting out a small sob at the loss.

"Come for me." Donald nodded before Buck could have seen him. The other drake was already down again, and he was ruthless in his pursuit for Donald's pleasure. The obscene slurping of Buck's eager mouth, the violent assault of Donald's sweet spot, and Donald's moans that were making the guard shift in his place - Donald could not recall another time where he felt like he had emptied himself into such a greedy, hungry mouth that did not relent as the liquid proof of orgasm squirted out of Donald with such an amount that, yes, the couch would have to be cleaned later.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Donald cursed softly, trying to come back down as his pleasure made him temporarily blind to everything else. The pleasure didn't stop, however. Buck continued his ministrations, slurping up all of the clear liquid that he could. Donald felt his body chase the sweet release again, faster than Donald had ever tried.

"Buck… again? Again!"

Buck paused for a moment. He hummed, torturing Donald with a lazy sense of accomplishment. His tongue dragged itself about, less intent on wrenching an orgasm out of his sweet playmate than before. He seemed pensive.

Donald whimpered, letting himself be at Buck's mercy and strongly sucking beak. Finally, with a harsh pop and Donald's whimpers, Buck pressed a kiss to Donald's hip and stood up higher.

"Dodger…" Their eyes met, and Donald found himself wishing that they weren't here. He wished that they were outside, in a dark place where they didn't have to be watched.

"Yes, sir?"

"While I taste you again-" Buck reached forward, grabbing Donald's hand. Buck was long, thick, and hard in Donald's hand; he was somewhat envious, and he was also very curious.

"-would you taste me?"

"If you want me to," Donald teased. They were past this point by now, but Buck shook his head.

"Tell me you want to if you do. If not, we don't have to. Either way, I'll drink so much of you that I'll never get our taste out of my mouth."

Donald felt his body melt at that.

"I want to taste you. I want your cock in my mouth." Donald leaned forward and kissed Buck sweetly, tasting himself and the strange wetness of a duck-hen. He whispered to Buck, "I want to remember how deep your cock goes in my throat and how hot your spend in my belly is."

Donald was helped up, and soon they were in a position to taste one another. The guardian read over all of the verified records and agreed that all was in order, and that neither had to worry. Buck lay on his back, supported by pillows under his shoulders. 

Donald was laying on Buck's body, his hips over Buck's face. He was eye-level with the dripping tip of Buck's cock, the sight enticing. The curves of it read like a welcome.

"Go on, my dear," Buck invited. "Let's put that sass-mouth to work."

Donald smiled, pressing the tip of his tongue to Buck's cock. Listening to the drake moan, Donald licked around the head, careful to clean all of the pre-spend that was cooling as it came down. Buck sighed, reaching down and rubbing at Donald's shoulder. With a certain swipe of his tongue, Buck groaned, his cock dripping out more pre-spend.

Donald felt himself start to grow wet again, finally giving into the idea of wrapping his mouth around Buck's cock. At the same time, Buck's mouth covered Donald's sex, tongue immediately seeking out his hole. Both ducks moaned, finding that their own pleasure was making the other drip more sweet-saltiness to be enjoyed.

Donald bobbed his head up and down, coughing when he had gone to far and had to surface for air.

"Your taste…" Donald licked all over Buck's penis, making sure not to lose anything. When Donald went down again, Buck sucked violently at his cloaca, making Donald choke.

Donald pushed through it, pressing his head down and pushing down his hips. Buck grabbed Donald's ass and pulled him close. They were ravenous for each other, something that only became more apparent when Donald came again, letting out high-pitched whimpers that made Buck thrust up harshly into Donald's mouth; all Donald did in response was to take Buck into his throat, swallowing him down as far as he could. His mouth was at the base of Buck, soft feathers caressing his beak.

Buck pulled away, gasping for breath as he thrust up into Donald’s mouth. The tightness of Donald’s throat, especially when gagging, was enough to bring him to orgasm. The taste was almost missed, what with how it shot down his throat.

“Oh, God…” Buck gasped out. Donald pulled off of his cock, licking at the head for whatever else came out. Donald sucked whatever was left, even digging out what was there at the head with his tongue. 

They lay there, panting and trying to figure out where they were again. After a while, Donald tried to move. He felt nebulous, like he didn’t have a body to move. He voiced as much, and soon Buck was shushing Donald, helping Donald to lay on his back. He pressed kisses to Donald’s neck, letting the aftermath of orgasm lull them into such a comfort.

Donald closed his eyes, letting Buck kiss him wherever he pleased. Buck moved away, Donald asking him to come back. A different hand placed itself on Donald’s arm. The guard looked down at him, asked him if he was okay.

“I’m fine… Thank you.”

With the guard at the doorway, Donald felt comfortable, but Buck was a great companion, making Donald feel so good and safe… They began to hum, pressing at each other to comfort one another.

“My dear, beautiful sailor,” Buck whispered. Donald nodded, pressing his hand to Buck’s cheek. They stayed that way for a while, time not touching them at all. The silence was only broken by their stomachs growling.

“... Are you hungry?” Donald asked. Buck nodded, pushing himself up and helping Donald up.

“Perhaps they have something light, something before I have to leave you, my dear.” They walked out to the main area, Donald so sleepy now…

They sat down at the bar where they first met, where they shared drinks and talked about things that were, perhaps, too close. Buck talked about his old riverboat while the cook and bartender prepared them some quick snacks. Fruit slices and juice were served, sweet things that Buck fed to Donald while keeping the wonderful companion in his lap. Donald faced Buck, resting his legs around Buck’s waist in a way that was almost too innocent to be part of such a place. When some juice escaped, Donald sucked on Buck’s fingers. Some droplets escaped.

“So messy,” Buck said softly, though if it was at the fruit or Donald, he didn’t say. He brought his wet fingers to his own mouth, suckling the juice off. Donald gently grabbed at Buck’s wrist. As he brought Buck’s fingers to his mouth, Donald kept eye contact, staring deep into Buck’s eyes as he finished cleaning the juice off of his customer’s fingers. Buck swallowed, his hold on Donald’s waist tightening.

They established a rhythm, fed and feeding. When Buck's stomach growled again, Donald fed him, pushing his fingers into Buck's mouth. Buck moaned low in his throat, sucking harshly at Donald's fingers. If Donald had a cock, it'd be hard, eager for Buck's talented mouth. For now, Buck got to enjoy how wet Donald was under his skirt.

"If only I could…" Buck pressed a kiss to the meat of Donald's palm, tender. "I want to stay."

"Why don't you?" Donald shifted in his seat, wincing at how sensitive he was. Buck rubbed at his waist soothingly.

"Real life calls for me, my lovely." Buck laid his cheek in Donald's palm, sighing. His eyes told of a darkness that Donald had only seen in fellow sailor's, back in his naval days. "The world calls for us, and sadly, I can't bring myself to leave it just yet."

Donald seized Buck's chin, making their eyes meet. He could feel something in his head telling him not to get involved. Surely, Buck was joking. This had been such a nice night, one that Donald truly enjoyed. With all of Buck's attention, how could Donald cope with not seeing him again? This man that had started a strange longing in Donald, one that he hadn’t felt in years, not since before… Not since his University days had he felt something like this.

“You would leave me for-ever?”

Buck stared back at him, smiling sadly. Buck pressed their mouths together. It was so much like their first kiss, but it had the acrid scent of tears. The taste of orange and melon was shared across their lips, a hunger burning deeper than in their stomachs. The world melted away, and the chair they were sitting on no longer seemed to be in a glorified brothel. They were somewhere else, where Donald could let Buck do what he wished and Buck would be begging for Donald to stay, to be with him, to maybe see-

Donald pulled away, wiping at his eyes. There were tears burning at the corners, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted stability too much, but he couldn’t have it; he didn’t deserve it.

“Dodger?”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Hadn’t he been warned of this? Donald had been told not to get too close to any of his customers, especially the nice ones. They would tempt him with their sweetness, their firm hands that promised some kind of sturdiness; they were here for the opposite, though. They were here to feed off of their instability. Their desperation to the point of selling themselves as cheap commodities was the whole reason that this place existed. Dodger was someone that Buck desired, but they didn’t know each other.

All they had were stories between them. They had words and passion, and yes, Donald did feel safe. This was nothing like intimacy, nothing like going for a milkshake at a restaurant or talking about a new film. Donald wouldn’t take Buck to his houseboat, not with his nephews there.

His nephews were everything, and this is why he had started this. This was why he was wearing a bra and panties, why his hair was covered by a wig and his face was covered in make-up for the first time since he was a teenager. It wasn’t to have a man, a drake, come into his life and make all of these strange promises of a love that came from a dark place, a place of utter hopelessness, all because Donald couldn’t just go to- Donald couldn’t find a better job, even with his status and his skills.

“My lovely, please… Talk to me.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to see you any-more,” Donald whispered, and Donald climbed off of Buck’s lap, turning to walk towards the back. “Take back your money for the rest of the night.”

Buck shook his head, walking behind Donald. “No, Dodger. Not for your tears.”

Donald glared back at him. “Take it. I don’t want it!”

“But you need it! I’m willing to pay!” Buck said, but he looked like he wanted to continue.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need it.”

Donald felt his stomach drop. He felt his makeup running down his cheeks. The air reminded him of iridium smoke, and the tears hadn’t come down this strongly since his sister disappeared in that very same smoke.

“Get the fuck out and leave me alone.”

Donald turned away, ignoring the sizable check that he received at the end of the week, most of it from Buck’s coffers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always respect (consenting, adult) sex workers and keep them safe (from destructive/abusive situations) please.


	4. Gladstone - $700

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. A lot of stuff has happened in life and I'm trying to manage it.
> 
> I also forgot what an ordeal getting to 5000 words for every chapter is. There's only one other fic that I have a word goal with, and it's for this very reason.

After he dropped the boys off at school, Donald found that he was at home in utter silence. Donald finally had a day off for the first time in a long time. With everything he had earned from the last night he'd worked at his more... unscrupulous job, he'd earned quite a bit, enough to pay the bills for this month. Ordinarily, he'd be already trying to handle everything with the public aid and Veterans' Affairs benefits that he had, making calls and arrangements to continue payment plans. This time, he owed little for electricity and for entertainment. The boys' lunches and occasional breakfasts were already free for them.

They even had money left over. Donald sighed, thanking Whoever was listening for this blessing. He refused to think about who had contributed most to their momentary stability, ignoring the heat that began to boil in his belly.

"At least I can do better this month. Maybe I can add this to the kids' college fund."

A knock came at the door. When Donald came to the door, he was surprised to see a familiar face.

"Gladstone?"

"Long time no see, Donnie!" Gladstone pushed his way in through the doorway and started embracing his cousin close. Donald smiled, holding onto his older cousin in a way that made Gladstone his anchor.

"How've you been? How are the kids?"

"We're good." Donald closed the door and led Gladstone to the table where they could talk. "Do you want some tea or coffee? Water?"

"Coffee, sugar cube." Gladstone pressed a kiss to Donald's cheek before sitting down, his hand brushing the small of Donald's back in a gentle caress.

“Don’t…” Donald set the coffee mug in front of Gladstone before sitting down with a mug of tea. The scent of nutmeg hit his nose after he took a sip of the hot drink. Donald shivered as he set his mug down. “What brings you here, Gladstone?”

“Donald, I just wanted to check on you. Haven’t heard from you or Fethry for a while. Fethry said he hasn’t seen you for a few years now.” Gladstone drank his coffee slowly, keeping his eyes on his cousin. “You too good to see your cousins now?”

“You know, Gladstone,” Donald said, glaring at the older gander. “If I wanted to stay away from you, I wouldn’t have let you come through the damn door.”

“As if your bad luck could really keep me out.” Gladstone had dealt with Donald like this before. Even now, as Donald tried to stand, his nutmeg tea spilled. Donald cursed.

“Watch me kick you out and keep you out!” Donald pulled on Gladstone’s arm, making the older gander stumble out of his seat. Both drakes cried out as they fell to the floor, Gladstone landing heavily on Donald’s chest. “Fuck!”

“Heh heh…” Gladstone moved to support himself on his hands, his arms on either side of Donald’s body. He had trapped his cute baby cousin. “Told you, sweetheart.”

Donald glared up at him, but Gladstone did not expect to see little tears at the corners of Donald’s pretty blue eyes. “Wait, honey-”

“... I’m sick of people telling me what to do, what I need!” Donald sniffled before closing his eyes and turning away from Gladstone. He hid his face in his arm, refusing to budge. Gladstone hurriedly moved to bring Donald’s face back to his.

“Shh… Donald, it’s okay.”

Donald was trembling now. His shoulders were shaking, even when Gladstone tried to hold him more firmly. The two cousins were soon sitting up, Donald arranged to sit on Gladstone’s lap as Gladstone hushed the younger drake gently.

“I’m sorry, Don. It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Donald hid his eyes in Gladstone’s shoulder. “It’s not.”

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I’m…” Donald groaned. He turned his head, his tears adorning Gladstone's neck feathers. "... I got another job. It's stressing me out."

"Well, what job is it? I can pull strings anywhere, sugar cube." Gladstone played with the feathers at the back of Donald's neck, feeling some of those head-feathers curl themselves to his touch. 

Donald shook his head, grunting negation.

"Babe, I hate seeing you like this." Gladstone kissed Donald's head, peppering those feathers with love as best he could. After a few minutes of staying like that, Donald's tears eventually stopped. Gladstone still kept kissing his head.

"Hey." Donald pulled his head up, body sagging and heavy from crying. He faced his cousin, staring… Gladstone's eyes were quite pretty like this.

Gladstone pressed forward, kissing Donald smartly. Their beaks were pressed together firmly, tenderly.

They were still, staring into each other's eyes. A deal had been struck, both drakes ready to pull away if either one of them couldn't stand this. Donald could feel Gladstone's trepidation. There were quivering fingers holding him, cradling Donald against the older gander's chest.

If Donald could have only known that there was a small spark that kindled into a blaze, perhaps he wouldn't have closed his eyes. Perhaps he would not have pressed further into Gladstone. That would not give Gladstone the chance to hold him closer, moaning and pouring some of the flames of lust into Donald.

Their tongues met carefully, shyly. Heat bloomed in their mouths, and if they could see, they would have seen a beautiful pink across both of their beaks. Gladstone sought out every taste of his cousin that he could get, suckling on Donald’s tongue as though it were a lifeline. Perhaps it was.

Gladstone pulled away and began to lick at Donald’s neck, nibbling at the base of his cousin’s feathers and chuckling at how easily Donald gave away signs of pleasure. Donald was moaning softly, cooing as softly as a turtledove and just as sweetly. That voice that Donald was so used to using was fading back into that soft feminine version that Gladstone knew that Donald didn’t prefer. He’d make no mention of it, just as Donald made no mention of Gladstone’s own past either.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Gladstone dragged a hand down, playing with the hem of Donald’s shirt. Donald let out a short keen, kissing Gladstone again. As they tasted each other again, Donald dragged his hand to cover Gladstone’s hand, holding it there. It wasn’t permission, nor was it denial.

When they parted to breathe again, Gladstone caught Donald’s gaze. They stared at one another, though Donald seemed to still have tears at the corners of his beautiful blue eyes.

“How far-”

“Hands. Only hands.” With that condition, Donald shuffled a bit backwards, getting his feet flat on the floor. He stood up, feathers ruffled in a way that made Gladstone want to break any sense of composure in his cousin’s posture.

“Okay, Donnie. Okay.” Gladstone stood up, ignoring how much he just wanted to let loose and make his cousin forget the world outside the houseboat. He grabbed Donald’s offered hand and followed the younger drake into the bedroom. 

As Donald set up a mattress on the floor, Gladstone looked at the pictures that hung on the wall. The triplets were already all over the houseboat, but here were pictures of them when they had just dried out from their hatching. Dewey was in a photo holding up his first fallen egg tooth. Huey was showing off his very first Junior Woodchuck badge, a bandage on his cheek from the activity that got him said badge. Louie was sleeping, holding onto a stuffed animal and his green baby blanket that he used to carry around with him everywhere until Donald had figured out how to turn it into a slightly large hoodie for the duckling to where. The room was small and felt like home, like Donald did. It was almost too honest, trusting.

Gladstone sat down on the mattress when Donald was finally done with it, ignoring the sheet that he was supposed to lie on after the bed was fully made.

“Hey-”

Gladstone pulled Donald down on top of him, holding a flustered Donald close and humming softly to him. Donald didn’t move and only when Gladstone began to knead at his ass did he finally try to talk.

“G-Gladstone, oh… Let me touch. I wanna-”

“Go ahead, honey.” Donald squirmed on Gladstone’s lap as he shakily but quickly managed to undo Gladstone’s jacket and shirt. Lovely feathers were exposed, sleek and different than anyone else’s in the family. The Gander genes were evident, especially as Donald licked at Gladstone’s neck for the first time. Long and sinewy and strong, Gladstone rolled his hips up towards Donald’s pelvis, Donald gasping as Gladstone sighed and finally made his erection known.

“You surprised?”

Donald pushed his hips back into Gladstone’s eager hands, seemingly lost in the sensation but processing what had just happened.

“Do you still want-”

“How long, Gladstone?” Donald tilted his head, nuzzling at his cousin’s cheek. “Did you think about me? How long until someone else-”

“Baby, I never looked for anyone else.” Gladstone closed his eyes and pulled Donald against his chest, keeping a tight grip on him. “No. You said that it wouldn’t work. I know and knew it wouldn’t, it won’t. Damn it, Donald, you’re the only person who ever thought of it that way. It was a bad time, and Aunt Lulu had died. I kept falling, Donnie, and you picked me up.”

Donald hummed, closing his eyes too. Gladstone could feel those eyelashes on his cheek - a butterfly kiss, and he continued, “I should have known that you would’ve gotten hurt too. You were always the smallest of all of us. You know our limits and yours. I know mine, too, baby, and you’re the only one that I-”

Gladstone shuddered as Donald licked a long stripe up his cheek before pulling back and looking down at him. If the look in Donald’s eyes was sadness, pity, or validation, Gladstone could never figure it out; he’d never been good at that.

“You know I don’t love you that way.”

If his heart hadn’t already been broken back when Donald was in high school, he would have shattered right there. “I know. I can-”

“Hey, Rocko.” Donald teased him gently with that name that had come up from that damn boxing movie. It had been a fun sleepover; Della had been there. “Even if I don’t love you that way, like you say that you love me - Hey, I’ve seen the way you look at some people. Just because I’m your cousin doesn’t make that invalid, you know. - I love making sure that we’re both happy. I really want to be happy right now.”

Gladstone pulled Donald down and dragged one of his hands down to search curiously between Donald’s legs. Their mouths were open and searching, making targets and marks that they hadn’t thought about in a decade or so. Gladstone watched as Donald pulled his shirt over his head, unveiling a piece of fabric that made his chest rather flat. Soon, that disappeared too, and Gladstone was soon suckling on Donald’s breast, instinct taking over.

Donald himself managed to take off Gladstone’s clothes, holding onto the gander’s bare shoulders as he was teased and caressed. Fingers graced the edges of his entrance, stroking at the delicate flesh and even softer feathers. A rush of hot fluid leaked out of him, the sensation rippling through him.

“You’re so wet.” Gladstone pulled his hand away and licked it all away. “It tastes like you.”

Donald whimpered. Gladstone hushed him gently as he reached back down and pressed one long, slender finger into Donald’s hole, the pressure of it making Donald grab onto his cousin tightly. Soon, a gentle thrusting started, the pressure leaving Donald before coming back, pleasure finally starting to fully settle in his lower belly.

Donald moaned, begging for another finger and being obliged. The second finger spread him wider, let more sweet slick spill out of him. Donald could hear Gladstone ask for something rather reasonable, and Donald obeyed. He reached down, grasping blindly for Gladstone’s cock. Once he found his target, Donald simpered up at his cousin. Gladstone groaned loudly, a pulse rushing against Donald’s palm. Donald began to move his hand, using the pre-spend that Gladstone was generously producing from the tip of his cock.

They whispered each other’s names in the dimness of the room, calling out to one another as they sought their own pleasure by providing it to the other. Donald soon begged for more, and Gladstone pled for speed.

“It’s okay, Rocko. I’ve got you.” Donald brought his hand to his mouth, keeping his eyes locked with Gladstone’s eyes as he drooled all over his palm. Once there was enough saliva there, Donald reached down and did a few tricks with his hand that Gladstone stopped pleasing Donald for a moment.

“God, where’d you learn that?”

Donald had seen some of his co-workers play with drakes, dogs, and boars before. He watched carefully during his training, just to make sure that he’d never have to get more involved than necessary. His employers, a lovely swan couple of a cob and a pen, had even done a lovely display for them, comfortable with each other enough and wanting their workers to know all that they could to make sure that they were safe in their employ. Donald play with Gladstone, though; this was fun for the both of them.

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

Gladstone only laughed, groaning happily as he thrusted into Donald’s fist. His fingers inside of Donald curled up harshly, the pressure pressing against something in Donald that he found terribly arousing. It had been stimulated before when-

“Gladstone, fuck me.”

“Huh?”

“Move those damn fingers of yours,” Donald hissed, his hand getting faster on Gladstone’s cock. Gladstone obeyed, and all semblance of a power imbalance was lost to a din of noise, passion, and sensation.

Orgasms came quickly after that. Gladstone bit down on Donald’s shoulder, Donald crying out a name as the heat of pain rushed straight down to his belly. Slick spilled over Gladstone’s fingers, the sensation making him spill over Donald’s hand.

They were shaking, and someone was crying. Tears were kissed away, and still, Donald couldn’t figure out who was crying.

“It’s okay, sugar cube. Donnie… It’s okay.”

Donald shivered and kissed Gladstone sweetly. If only they didn’t have that deep-seated antagonism for each other that their brands of luck had placed in them, perhaps it could have worked back then. Without Grandma cursing at them and bastardizing Gladstone’s honor to the point that he had to move out, Donald and Gladstone could have run away together. An unlucky drake raising three kids on his own and his happy-go-lucky, albeit homeless, cousin could have been a fantastic sight to see.

Della could still be here.

Donald sat up after a long while. Gladstone’s chest made an excellent pillow, too warm to leave willingly unless necessary. However, it was needed.

“The kids will need to be picked up soon.”

“... Guess I should leave, then.”

“Oh. Um…”

When both of them looked back on it later, they would realise that Gladstone had pulled on his clothes and left Donald alone in his bedroom. He didn’t bother to wait to hear if his baby cousin had anything to say.

The idea that Donald would call him just gave him too much hope.

Later that day, Donald went to the bank, just to make sure that everything was right and they could spend a bit of money on something fun. Maybe they could go to Funzo's Fun-Zone. He was shocked - pleasantly - to see an extra $700 that had been wired to him from…

He thanked the bank teller and wished her a good day. He had only withdrawn $60, enough for a day out. The rest would go into the boys' college funds and some other bills.

It was over a week before Cousin Gladstone came again on a Saturday. Donald called him, saying that he needed some help with Louie. He could be a difficult kindergartner. As Louie's favourite uncle, Gladstone could often console better than Donald could.

And so, the gander arrived around dinnertime.

"Okay, Green Bean!" Gladstone walked into the houseboat without too much fanfare. The door had luckily been unlocked.  "What are you doing to your Sweet Pea uncle and your brothers, Red and Jumping Beans?"

He had been prepared for an upset child, not ready to stand face to face with his upset cousin. Donald's face was red in a silent anger that everyone in the family knew to fear. Donald pointed to a chair, where Gladstone quickly sat down.

“And the kids?”

“They’re with Daisy for the day.” Donald stood right in front of Gladstone, staring down at the gander. It was in moments like these that Gladstone forgot their five-year age difference. Donald glared down at him. Gladstone almost forgot how beautiful Donald was when he was mad.

“Why did you call me?”

“Why did you put $700 into my bank account?”

Gladstone’s eyebrows furrowed. Is that what Donald was mad about? Why? He asked that, and Donald stepped forward, moving to step on one of Gladstone’s feet. Gladstone hissed.

“Don-”

“Do you think I can’t take care of us? Of my kids?” Donald pressed down harder with his foot. Gladstone cried out, trying to pull his foot back. That just made the pain worse.

“Step off, Donald.”

“No, Gladstone. You can’t just come into my home, fuck me like you’ve always wanted to, and then pay me to be your damn whore!” Donald’s voice fell back into the voice that Gladstone was so familiar with. It was almost like Della’s voice.

“Fuck- I didn’t know you’d feel that way! Did you want me to stay or something?” Donald stepped off of Gladstone’s foot, growling.

“That has nothing to do with what I said!” Donald grabbed Gladstone’s shoulders, pressing him back into his seat. His fingers were going to leave bruises, they’d see later.

Gladstone winced, reaching up and grabbing at Donald’s wrists. “Please… You’re hurting me, Donnie.”

“Answer me, Gladstone!” Donald bent downward, their beaks almost touching. Gladstone could feel his heart start to race; Donald had never been so mad with him, not even when they were children. Donald’s voice was nice and soft when he spoke again. “Did you pay me for what you wanted, Rocko? Do you think I’m that desperate that I would want your money after you…”

“No. You were just talking about your job. You looked… Your job bothers you, doesn’t it?” Gladstone bit the inside of his cheek, watching Donald absorb those words.

“... And you left me.”

Oh. “I did. Donald-”

“It can’t be like it was before, Gladstone.” Donald finally relaxed his grip, a frown settling deep into his beak and cheeks. “I know you won’t take the money back, but you can’t do it again. This job… I just have to learn to deal with it.”

Gladstone kept his hold on Donald’s wrists. “Donnie, I don’t want you to have to do that.”

Donald huffed and pulled away, looking over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Didn’t Grandma always say that, even if with your luck, you can’t get used to having everything you want?” Donald picked up a bag from the floor and turned back to his cousin. “You can stay, if you want. I know that you might not have a place to stay tonight.”

“And where are you going?”

“I have to go to work.”

“At that job you don’t like.”

“Yeah.”

Gladstone stood up, moving to step in front of Donald. Between him and the door, Donald now had two barriers to go through.

“I’m going with you.”

Donald almost dropped his bag.

“Gladstone-”

“I’ll see what I can do to make it better.” Gladstone reached down, pressing his hand to cover Donald’s hand on the bag. “That’s something that I can do with this damn luck of mine.”

Donald looked away. “I don’t know-”

“Please, baby,” Gladstone whispered, bending forward and kissing Donald’s forehead. “Let me do this for you.”

Donald didn’t nod, but he did gesture for Gladstone to follow him.

The location of Donald’s workplace bothered Gladstone; it was a thirty-minute train ride from Duckburg, well into the countryside that still remained from Duckburg’s agricultural days. It wasn’t close to any city that Gladstone had been to before. They even had a driver there to meet them.

Gladstone asked as to why come work so far out here, but the driver only explained that it was for the safety of the workers. Donald agreed. Gladstone looked out the window but saw nothing.

“What? Not even a hospital?” 

“They have their own staff there, but a private hospital is close by, yes.” Donald thrust his elbow into Gladstone’s side.

“Ow!”

“Stop talking and listen to the rules.”

“Rules?”

Donald leaned forward, asking the driver to explain the rules of observers. The driver nodded, keeping his eye on the road. Gladstone could see a large building coming up in the distance.

Gladstone listened and found the weight of his stomach sinking down with a horrible nausea following it.

The building was coming up. It was ornate, but it was not brightly lit. When they pulled up, the driver did not stop at the front. They pulled toward a building behind it. There, they were escorted inside.

“You go that way.” Donald pointed down a hallway. There, a list of locations and directions was displayed. Gladstone bit his cheek again.

“And you?”

“Gotta get ready for work.” Donald waved him away.

Gladstone let himself be led away by one of the guards in the hallway. He was taken to a room where he was told to pick a mask. He also found a jacket that he changed into, the guard taking his jacket and checking it into a holding area. He gave his name. They wrote it down, asking for another name.

“Oh, that was one of the rules. A title kind of name…

“Rocko.”

Soon, Gladstone was led to a foyer, where a bar, lounge chairs, and a stage were set up. He made his way to the bar, opening a tab. Gladstone reached into his new jacket’s pocket and, once counting it out, found that he had $500 in his pocket.

He had a wine and some fruits. It was reasonably priced.

Soon, Gladstone finished his snack, getting a second serving when he was done. He noticed more people coming in with masks, and some came in without. A guard approached him, offering him to oversee the options that he had. As a spectator, he didn’t have much.

“Um… I’m waiting for someone.”

“You mean me?”

It was the same feminine voice that Gladstone had known for years. It was nothing like the buccal tones that he’d grown up getting accustomed to when Donald had finally presented himself the way that he truly was. It was the same tone that Donald was whispered to him in, when they had finally made love after so many years of wanting, a night that Gladstone had unknowingly ruined.

Gladstone saw a beautiful duck-hen with silver-blonde hair. She wore a black dress and matching high-heeled shoes. A blue-white-pink scarf was tied about her neck.

Those eyes were too familiar to forget.

“Hey, there.” The woman turned to the guard, saying that Gladstone was with them.

“Is… Sugar cube?”

“The name’s Dodger here. And you?”

“Rocko.”

Donald- Dodger grabbed Gladstone’s hand, sitting down on the barstool next to him.

“So, this is your job? An escort?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” Dodger showed Gladstone how to use the tablet, inviting him to select their name and look through the options and prices. “Well, what do you think?”

“... I’m just watching, right?”

“Yeah. You can’t do much now. If you ever come back, you’ll have tests to do before you do anything beyond- well, only hands.”

Gladstone nodded, squeezing Dodger’s hand.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“This is only my third night, aside from training.” Dodger asked for a water. The bartender dipped their pinky finger in the glass, showing off their nail polish. Gladstone almost spoke, but Dodger squeezed his hand again, taking their glass and drinking.

“It’s a safety measure.”

“Sure..?”

They continued to drink and snack, occasionally watching some of the other patrons and workers. Dodger pointed out that those with a scarf like theirs were just like Donald, born differently but no less lovely. Dodger introduced Gladstone to the Captain, who seemed to put Gladstone on edge with their keen eyes and conniving smile.

“Dude, they could break my head between their thighs.” Gladstone sunk into the chaise, staring after the Captain as they walked away.

“I’m sure of it, actually.”

Gladstone smiled, pulling Dodger close to by the waist. He lifted his cousin’s chin and made their gazes meet. “Still, you found this job. Couldn’t you come to me?”

“You’re moment-to-moment, Gladstone. I can’t have that for… Not for them.”

Another customer, a drake, had been nearby, but he came closer when Dodger had come closer to Gladstone. Dodger looked up, and Gladstone could feel their body tense underneath his touch.

“Good evening, Buck,” Dodger greeted, taking a sip of their water. Buck sat down in a chair not terribly far from where Gladstone and Dodger sat, gently greeting Gladstone’s cousin.

The three sat in partial silence, save for the sound of the hidden world around them. Dodger pulled away from Gladstone, sitting up right. Buck asked Dodger to know how sorry he was for their exchange the last time that they had met.

“That’s all right, Buck… It’s fine.” Dodger’s body did relax, sipping at their water. “... I hope you’ve been well.”

Buck confirmed that, hoping that Dodger had had the same. He turned and greeted Gladstone as well, politely offering to buy him another drink if he wished. Gladstone stared at him before asking for a water.

“Actually, I’ll go get it. You two want anything?”

Buck shook his head. Dodger shook their head as well.

Gladstone walked up to the counter and ordered another water. He thought of how Buck had appeared rather suddenly but his presence not upsetting the peace that Gladstone and his cousin had settled into. His cousin also seemed to tense when he approached but started to relax when Buck began to talk. Even now, as Gladstone looked from a distance, his cousin had come to sit a bit closer to Buck. They were smiling shyly at the other drake now, seemingly talking about happy things.

What the Hell had Buck done to make Dodger upset? If it was a place like this-

“Thanks, gotta go.” Gladstone took his drink and sat back down next to his cousin, bringing them close by the waist. Dodger looked to him, almost surprised. It was like-

“Did you forget I was here, doll-face?”

Dodger pouted. “No. I was just talking with Buck…” Dodger pressed their body against Gladstone’s arm. Gladstone hadn’t felt the curves of his cousin’s body in years. He hardly took the chance when he had managed to lay intimately with them the other night. Now, however, Gladstone couldn’t ever say that his cousin had ever worn something so smooth, sleek over their body. He could even see the dip of their cleavage, shadowed and covered by lingerie underneath.

“What, are you feeling jealous, Rocko?”

Gladstone made a choking noise. Heat sparked in his lower belly, and he couldn’t help but be grateful that so many people were here. He liked this kind of intimacy in a more… private setting. He could keep his composure, for now.

“Erm…”

Buck chuckled, drinking some of his own beverage. He made a comment on how nice the two ducks looked together. Gladstone glared at Buck.

“What? Are you trying to get into my pants too?”

Dodger pinched Gladstone’s side.

“Be nice.” They turned to him, keeping their voice low. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, sorry that I have a problem with you working here,” Gladstone hissed back. He tightened his hold on Dodger, who only glared back. Dodger turned to Buck.

“Maybe we can show Rocko what we do when we’re here, Buck.” Dodger pulled away from Gladstone, their eyes sharp and hungry. “It’s not like I’m shy at all.”

Buck raised his eyebrows and spoke his protests, along with his pleasure should they continue.

“I’m not using you, dear Buck,” Dodger said gently, perching themselves in Buck’s lap. The older drake adjusted himself automatically, like he had held Gladstone’s cousin before and learnt how to hold them well. “I just want to…”

Dodger leaned in and whispered something in Buck’s ear, something that made Buck blush and hold Dodger a bit closer. Gladstone stared as Dodger pressed a kiss to Buck’s cheek.

“Should I leave?” Gladstone stood up, nausea making a storm in his stomach. Knowing that Donald could - and probably did - have sex with other people didn’t bother him. Even seeing this now didn’t. It just made him feel like he had ruined his chances so many years ago.

Buck stared up at him. He asked Dodger something quietly.

“No. He can only watch. Do you mind that?”

Buck shook his head, pressing a kiss to Dodger’s cheek as well.

“Don’t understand why you’d want me here.”

“You can only have this, Rocko.” Dodger reached for Gladstone’s hand, grabbing it tightly and pulling the gander close. “Only here. Not even for a price that’d be out of your lucky range.”

“I just wanna take care of you.”

Buck stared up at Gladstone, turning to Dodger, but Gladstone’s cousin stopped him with a finger on his beak.

"I'm okay, Rocko. I just get… frustrated." Dodger turned to Buck. "What I got mad about last time, my dear, is also what I got mad at Rocko about, not too long ago."

Gladstone blinked, trying to base the confusion in his mind away. Wasn't… Was his baby cousin not having sex for money? Or if he was, why would he get mad?

Buck apologised, saying that he didn't mean to make Dodger feel like he needed more help and tried to make everything seem as though it weren't intimate. It was special for Buck, something Gladstone found himself believing.

"... It's not supposed to be, but it is for me, too," Dodger confessed, squeezing Gladstone's hand as they kissed Buck, deep and slow. Gladstone felt special in that moment. He watched as his baby cousin was held carefully, Buck's body language open and vulnerable in a way that Gladstone never could. His cousin seemed to know this person, a faceless man that cared for them. It was beautiful. With that realisation, Gladstone spoke.

"Can we go somewhere private?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bi (bee) has now christened this chapter complete.


End file.
